Paul Dickson, a Garrett Park resident, loves the origins of words and is a compiler of word books and dictionaries. So imagine my delight and pleasure when my friend, Mary Garson, who is also fascinated with etymology, gave me a copy of Dickson's recently published book, "Words from the White House," a dictionary of presidential utterances that have become a part of the American vernacular. The next time you use "iffy," you might be surprised to learn that the word goes back to the New Deal.

Stanley C. Gabor's voice takes on an excited tone when he talks about this new idea -- a retirement community built around a university, not a golf course.The university Gabor has in mind is the Johns Hopkins University, where he has spent the past 17 years as head of the School of Continuing Studies.He retires at the end of the month, having shepherded the school through a period during which numbers of "nontraditional" -- mainly older -- students have grown by 50 percent nationally. Such students now make up half of the country's college enrollment.

It never fails. You try to point out that some supposed rule has no validity or make some empirical observation about actual English usage, and immediately comes the God-is-dead-and-everything-is-permitted outcry. It happened today in a Facebook comment on my post "English has no scruples" : " does this mean that i'm longer entitled to cringe when i hear, 'where did you go to school at?' or 'i wish i would have gone?'" Nothing that I said about the language being what its users collectively make it obliterates the social and cultural dimensions.

In the heat of summer, Maryland officials are snuffing out one of the few pleasures a state prisoner may still enjoy in his cell -- smoking.Starting July 1, inmates will no longer be allowed to light up anywhere inside the state's 24 prisons, according to a directive issued by Bishop L. Robinson, secretary of the state Department of Public Safety and Correctional Services.The policy was instituted to comply with the statewide workplace smoking ban that went into effect in March. Prison officials filed for a variance to the ban several months ago to buy time to work out a policy and get inmates used to the idea.

It never fails. You try to point out that some supposed rule has no validity or make some empirical observation about actual English usage, and immediately comes the God-is-dead-and-everything-is-permitted outcry. It happened today in a Facebook comment on my post "English has no scruples" : " does this mean that i'm longer entitled to cringe when i hear, 'where did you go to school at?' or 'i wish i would have gone?'" Nothing that I said about the language being what its users collectively make it obliterates the social and cultural dimensions.

A Pep Boys supercenter is coming to Harford Road with a plan to tear down the quaint Bond Lumber Co. building there, despite a struggle by some neighbors to save the building.With city permits in hand, a company spokesman said groundbreaking is set for Monday. He said the auto service and parts store will occupy 18,200 square feet and is to open in January as one of five Pep Boys stores in Baltimore.Legal appeals to halt construction led by local resident Richard Dowd, a 32-year-old graphic designer, have been unsuccessful.

About 40 years ago, noted baseball tactician and grammarian Charlie Dressen surveyed the National League standings and concluded, "The Giants is dead." Were Dressen still with us and deciding to apply his skills of observation to the state of boxing on television, he might say, "Boxing are dead."And he'd probably be just as wrong as he was about his Brooklyn Dodgers' pennant prospects.Boxing, long a television staple, is still there. But, just like other forms of programming, it is moving away from the networks.

In a recent column, my colleague Kevin Cowherd mentioned Annapolis-born author James M. Cain, whose steamy, hard-boiled crime novels filled with love, sex and murder, written in the 1930s and '40s, are still capable of generating enough heat reminiscent of a summer's day in Baltimore. Cain, whose blockbuster novels - The Postman Always Rings Twice, Double Indemnity, Mildred Pierce and Serenade - will always define his career and a time, considered himself nothing more than a newspaperman.

Bill FrisellGone, Just Like a Train (Nonesuch 79479)There are plenty of guitarists who have mastered the pop vernacular -- the bent-note moan of the blues, the feedback-sweetened wail of rock, the tart twang of country, the satisfying crunch of metal -- but few who use that vocabulary as inventively as Bill Frisell does on "Gone, Just Like a Train."A jazzman by trade, Frisell built his reputation on the music's cutting edge, playing with such avant-leaning players as bassist Marc Johnson, trumpeter Kenny Wheeler and drummer Paul Motian.

In a recent column, my colleague Kevin Cowherd mentioned Annapolis-born author James M. Cain, whose steamy, hard-boiled crime novels filled with love, sex and murder, written in the 1930s and '40s, are still capable of generating enough heat reminiscent of a summer's day in Baltimore. Cain, whose blockbuster novels - The Postman Always Rings Twice, Double Indemnity, Mildred Pierce and Serenade - will always define his career and a time, considered himself nothing more than a newspaperman.

Islands, polygons, purple dots - they all mean something to the school boundary line faithful in Howard County, who have absorbed the redistricting vernacular as if it were handed to them with an easy-to-follow booklet and translation tape. "It's a public phenomenon," schools spokeswoman Patti Caplan said. Parents and community members have bandied about the very specific terms. Last year's high school redistricting started it, Caplan said, by introducing a citizens committee to draw suggested boundary lines and asking for lots of public input.

Maybe a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but propose a change in zoning terms and people get upset. Howard County Department of Planning and Zoning officials want to stop issuing "waivers" for subdivisions and start calling the process "alternative compliance" instead, arguing that it is more precise. The county's Republican councilmen are convinced that "waiver" is right and the name change is a misleading bit of public relations. It could be seen as a symptom of Howard County's obsession with land use: Not only are planners proposing a name change for an arcane zoning regulation, but people actually care.

Stanley C. Gabor's voice takes on an excited tone when he talks about this new idea -- a retirement community built around a university, not a golf course.The university Gabor has in mind is the Johns Hopkins University, where he has spent the past 17 years as head of the School of Continuing Studies.He retires at the end of the month, having shepherded the school through a period during which numbers of "nontraditional" -- mainly older -- students have grown by 50 percent nationally. Such students now make up half of the country's college enrollment.

Bill FrisellGone, Just Like a Train (Nonesuch 79479)There are plenty of guitarists who have mastered the pop vernacular -- the bent-note moan of the blues, the feedback-sweetened wail of rock, the tart twang of country, the satisfying crunch of metal -- but few who use that vocabulary as inventively as Bill Frisell does on "Gone, Just Like a Train."A jazzman by trade, Frisell built his reputation on the music's cutting edge, playing with such avant-leaning players as bassist Marc Johnson, trumpeter Kenny Wheeler and drummer Paul Motian.

A Pep Boys supercenter is coming to Harford Road with a plan to tear down the quaint Bond Lumber Co. building there, despite a struggle by some neighbors to save the building.With city permits in hand, a company spokesman said groundbreaking is set for Monday. He said the auto service and parts store will occupy 18,200 square feet and is to open in January as one of five Pep Boys stores in Baltimore.Legal appeals to halt construction led by local resident Richard Dowd, a 32-year-old graphic designer, have been unsuccessful.

Speed and great pitching epitomized the 1976 Arundel High School baseball team (22-1), while power and pitching symbolized the 1989 Old Mill (20-1) and '91 Northeast (24-0) teams.Each was a state champion, and as promised I'm going to attempt to determine which of the three was the best ever in the county and maybe state history as well.There are few who will disagree that those three teams were the best this county has ever produced.Mind you, baseball fans, this is one man's opinion, but it is an, ahem, educated one because this reporter has been fortunate enough to see all three play.

By J.D. Considine and J.D. Considine,Sun Pop Music Critic | October 23, 1994

Will Baltimore become the next Seattle?That rather rosy possibility has been on the minds of many in recent weeks, after a couple of the area's alternative rock acts unexpectedly entered the limelight. First, there was Bovox Clown, an Annapolis-based quintet that beat out 2,500 other aspiring video stars to win the MTV Beach House Band Search last month. Then, just a few weeks ago, the Baltimore quartet Love Riot became the first American band ever to win the Yamaha-sponsored Vision Quest international band competition.

By Kenneth B. Morgen and Kenneth B. Morgen,Special to The Sun | July 23, 1995

"The Violet Quill Reader: The Emergence of Gay Writing After Stonewall," by David Bergman, Ed. 410 pages. New York: St. Martin's Press. Paperback, $14.95David Bergman undertook a noble, ambitious task. He assembled selections of the best published and unpublished chapters, short stories, essays, personal letters and diary entries of America's most prominent gay contemporary writers. Moreover, he explained the literary, historical and social significance of their work. The result is a sophisticated tome that should appeal not only to academics or gay people interested in their cultural heritage, but to lovers of good writing as well.

In the heat of summer, Maryland officials are snuffing out one of the few pleasures a state prisoner may still enjoy in his cell -- smoking.Starting July 1, inmates will no longer be allowed to light up anywhere inside the state's 24 prisons, according to a directive issued by Bishop L. Robinson, secretary of the state Department of Public Safety and Correctional Services.The policy was instituted to comply with the statewide workplace smoking ban that went into effect in March. Prison officials filed for a variance to the ban several months ago to buy time to work out a policy and get inmates used to the idea.